Inept
by Blooregard Q. Kazoo
Summary: Hollom survives the suicide attempt by way of Lord Blakeney. Just a silly fan-girl changing the movie to suit her needs... Dedicated to all Hollom fans, I know you're out there!


Inept

One-Shot

Movieverse. Hollom survives the suicide attempt by way of Lord Blakeney. I won't delve into what happens if he lived, but rather, how that particular scene could have been changed to suit my fangirl needs. I love Lee Ingleby. There. I said it. _Disclaimer: Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World is copyrighted material. This story is in no way affiliated with its owners._

* * *

The air was crisp and cool as Blakeney neared the end of his watch. A small wind picked up, nothing much, but strong enough the ease the sweat that formed beneath the brim of his hat. He took off the covering, and, after placing it in the crook of his arm, ran short fingers through his unruly hair.

The wind disappeared as soon as it came. Blakeney frowned as the air became hot again, but was still thankful for the few moments of ease. He placed his hat upon his head and idly walked to and fro as he waited out the last moments in silence.

He thought about the events of late; the hardships that had recently befallen his fellow midshipman. They said it was Hollom who was calling out to the _Archeron_ -- like a siren that sings to a sailor -- it was his presence that brought their misfortune. Blakeney, being a young boy, couldn't help but feel the agitation of a supernatural presence. But he reminded himself that they were nothing but stories, and as such, held no true words.

He would later tell himself that Hollom's appearance was nothing more than a coincidence, however odd the coincidence may seem. Much to Hollom's dismay, he happened upon the deck as the last shallow wisps of air tugged at the sails with no affect. He looked downcast while he walked toward the only individual who wasn't giving him a narrowed gaze of contempt.

Someone gripped Blakeney's shoulder while he was lost in thought. He whirled around with such speed that Mr. Hollom, the perpetrator, raised his hands in apology, stating with this action that he meant no harm. Blakeney nodded, asked if he was feeling better, and continued to look out to sea with a nervousness about his features.

Hollom began small talk, perhaps to occupy himself from his own mind.

* * *

There are certain times when the mind draws a blank and actions are unpremeditated. Now was such an occurrence for the young Lord Blakeney. His senses knew something was wrong when his fellow midshipman stopped conversation abruptly and picked up a large, black shot before pacing toward the ships bow.

The shot was heavy in his hands, the physical strain evident when his body leaned forward by the weight. Hapless Hollom couldn't lift a shot without difficulty.

"_No!_"

Blakeney heard someone yell -- only to find that he, himself, uttered the words. His feet moved of their own accord, heart raced with anticipation of the actions that Hollom was about to perform. He had no clear thoughts, merely impulses and broken sentences that made him move forward and reach out with his one good arm.

He grasped the air in front of him, small fingers closing tightly into a ball. To his satisfaction, the fist enclosed upon a wad of blue fabric. He would have reached for something when Hollom's larger size made him unbalanced, but that was impossible when his only hand was already in use. Blakeney tumbled overboard with the very man he was attempting to save. They hit the water with a painful crash and an audible splash.

The taste of salt lingered on his tongue. He opened his eyes to find bubbles raising upward from his gaping mouth. He was holding onto Hollom's sleeve and sinking fast. By reflex he let go and tumbled in the water while he kicked and thrashed about. It was useless. His heavy jacket combined with the lazy strokes of one arm kept him beneath the water.

The night sky matched the color of the ocean. He no longer knew which direction was up or which was down. He whimpered and screamed but the water stifled his sounds. His movements slowed, he began to grow tired, but his body relaxed when his cheek felt the soft touch of a uniform jacket.

Hollom, the shot now resting on the sandy bottom, wrapped one arm around the child's midsection, the small head resting on his shoulder, and swam towards the surface.

He gasped when he felt the cool air blowing over his wet face. He shook his head to move his hair from his eyes and met the worried gaze of Dr. Maturin who was leaning over the ships edge. He would have to explain himself one way or another. Deception was not of his character, and Blakeney would no doubt have his own story to tell. He looked at the boy with a new affection.

Hollom would save him from lying to the Captain's face

he owed him that much.


End file.
